I Left My House Empty Three Days Before Christmas

grits from a place with paper napkins and sticky tables. I ate by myself. Nobody needed ketchup. Nobody wanted extra butter. Nobody said, “Can you cut this for Rosie?” Nobody pushed peas into a napkin when they thought I wasn’t looking.

I went back to the inn before seven like a widow in a movie, except I wasn’t tragic. Just tired.

When I turned my phone continue reading …